She straightened her shoulders, refusing to let him intimidate her. “No, not at all.”
“Then we don’t have a problem, do we?”
The only problem, evidently, was her inhibition. But in the face of all she could learn from him, did her reserve really matter? Suddenly determined, she squelched her nervousness and said with firm resolve, “Okay, a kiss for a question.”
She waited, braced for his sensual assault, but Gabe simply continued to watch her. Not by so much as the flick of an eyelash did he move. Her stomach cramped the tiniest bit and she lifted an eyebrow.
She was both disappointed and relieved when she asked, “You’ve changed your mind?”
With one indolent shake of his head, Gabe crooked a finger at her. “C’mere, Red. You’re going to do the kissing, not me.”
In reaction to his potent look, more than her stomach cramped, but the feeling wasn’t at all unpleasant.
“Oh.” She looked at his gorgeous body stretched out in front of her—and started shaking. His shoulders were wide and bunched with muscles, as were his biceps. The undersides of his arms were smooth, slightly lighter than the rest of his skin. She’d never considered a man’s armpits sexy before—just the thought was ludicrous—but she’d never seen Gabriel Kasper’s. Seeing the hair under his arms was somehow too intimate, like a private showing. She looked away from that part of him.
His chest, tanned and sprinkled with golden brown hair, had the lean hard contours that spoke of a natural athlete. Her pulse fluttered.
His abdomen was flat, sculpted, and if his underarms were too personal, his navel was downright sexual. The way his body hair swirled around it, then became a silky line that disappeared into the very low waistband of his shorts… Her eyes widened.
With his wet cutoffs clinging to his body, there was no way to miss his obvious arousal. Fascinated, she couldn’t help but stare for a moment. Never, not in real life, anyway, had she seen an erection. Heat exploded inside her, making her cheeks pulse, her vision blur.
Her gaze flew to his face, desperate, confused, excited. His grin, slow and wicked, taunted her. He didn’t say a word, and she knew he was waiting for her to back down.
She couldn’t. Not now, not with him challenging her. But…
Licking her lips, Elizabeth croaked, “Are you sure we should do this?”
He shrugged one hard shoulder in a show of negligence. “No one will see. Don’t be a coward, Lizzy. It’s just a kiss.”
Just a kiss. She remembered how those women on the dock had hung on him, how every woman who passed in a boat had stared at him with hunger. He was used to kissing, used to so much more. She couldn’t recall any other man in all her acquaintance ever demanding such a thing from her. No wonder she was at a loss as to how to proceed. She preferred to arm herself with knowledge, to learn from a book what she didn’t understand. But she hadn’t known to research this particular theme. She frowned with that thought. Were there books to help you bone up on kissing a sexy-as-sin, half-dressed reclining man?
She eyed him warily. “Why don’t you…sit up?” The idea of leaning over him, of being that close to so much masculine flesh, flustered her horribly.
Without hesitation, Gabe shook his head. “Naw, I’m already comfortable. So quit stalling.”
He was right; the quicker she got it over with, the better. Like getting a tooth pulled, it meant just a flinch of pain, and then you were done.
Not giving herself time to think about it, she slapped one hand flat on the dock beside his head, bent down and brushed her mouth over his in a flash of movement. She straightened just as quickly and, avoiding his gaze, put her pencil to paper. Her voice shook slightly, but she ignored the tremor as she asked, “Now, when you leaped into the water with the runaway boat, were you afraid?”
“No.”
She waited, her pencil ready, but he said no more. Elizabeth rounded on him, her nerves too frazzled for more games. “That’s an awfully simplified answer.”
He gave her a wry look. “It was an awfully simplified kiss.”
Unable to help herself, she looked at his mouth. Her lips still tingled from the brief contact with his. It took all her concentration not to lick her lips, not to chew on them. Her heartbeat was still racing too quickly, her stomach was in knots of anticipation…no! Dread, not anticipation. She had to be philosophical. “You mean, if I made the kiss longer…”
So softly she could barely hear him, he said, “Why don’t you give it a try and see?”
She could do this! She was not a fainthearted ninny. Determination stiffened her spine. Sensual awareness sharpened her senses. She gave one quick nod.
Laying the pencil and paper aside, she bent, clasped her palms over his ears to anchor both him and herself, then kissed him for all she was worth.
Never having done much kissing, she had no idea if she was doing it right. But she mashed her mouth tightly to his, turned her head subtly so their lips meshed, and sighed. Or maybe it was more a growl filled with resolution.
His lips felt firm, warm. This close, his scent was stronger, drifting over her, making her insides fill with a new and unexpected need. He was so hot, his skin where they touched almost burning her. Her chin bumped his, their noses rubbed together, and her wrists rested on his silky hot shoulders. She stopped moving her mouth and simply breathed deeply.
Gabe groaned, then promptly laughed, startling her enough that she sat up and stared at him in hurt and confusion.
With a small smile, using only one rough finger, he stroked her bottom lip. His words were as gentle as his touch, and just as devastating. “You haven’t done much kissing, have you, Lizzy?”
Indignation would be misplaced; obviously, he could already tell she was inexperienced, so why should she deny it or be embarrassed? He could see what she looked like, had even used the same insulting taunt of Red she’d heard in grade school. He could probably guess at the other names—freckle face and scarecrow. And no doubt he understood the way she’d been ignored in high school, when all the boys were chasing cheerleaders with bubbly personalities and model faces.
None of that hurt her anymore. She had found more important things to do with her time. With an accepting shrug, she agreed. “Pitifully little, actually.” And even that was an exaggeration.
Amazingly, his smile turned seductive. He came up on his right elbow, wrapped the fingers of his left hand around her nape and pulled her close. Against her mouth, he whispered, “Then allow me.”
His tongue… Oh gracious. His mouth opened hers with almost no effort. His tongue touched, teased, not really entering her mouth, but making her crazed with small licks and tastes, softly, wetly stroking. She held herself very still so as not to disturb him or interrupt his progress.
Slowly, in infinitesimal degrees, he pulled his mouth away. His hand still held her neck, his fingers caressing, and he stared at her mouth. “You’re not kissing me back, Lizzy.”
“I…” She hadn’t realized he wanted her to. All her senses had been attuned to what
